


Eyes on Fire

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Gen, Inspired by Music, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 05:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7421152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Divide may be dead, but Horses are rising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> [Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LnRe8Q5r6rE)

The Burned Man replaces the firing spring on a .45 auto. Amazing dexterity, for what he is. Amazing he’s alive.

He compresses the spring around the pin and slips it in, says, “Finally come for me, have you?”

No response from the empty cave. Joshua snaps on the slide. Finally looks up. “Ulysses.”

Stealth Boy fizzles out, and the Courier that almost was stands before him. “Stepped too light to hear me come.”

“Your breathing mask has a distinctive sound,” he replies. Pulls the hammer. Dry-fires. “I don’t know anyone else that would wear one in Zion.” Blue eyes peek over a pistol as he inspects. “The air’s clean, you know.”

“No such thing,” Ulysses counters, unmoving. Coiled, like a fresh firing spring.

Joshua drops the clip, pauses. “No. I suppose not.”

If Ulysses thought his dexterity was amazing, his speed is astounding. Loads a fresh magazine, cocks, lines up the shot, faster than Ulysses could blink. If he blinked.

“Shall we get on with it?”

Holds a pistol two-handed, steady enough Ulysses is sure he doesn’t need to. Remembers that same hand putting bullets in infant skulls. Never trembled then. Only used the one. “Not here for yer head.”

“Then you’re not here for Caesar.” Blue eyes, but not cold. So hot they burn blue. “… Those sights aren’t aligned,” he notes, and lowers the gun to the table. Safety on.

“Just words.”

“Can’t say I know any words we need exchange,” the Burned Man states, almost edging on threat. Not sure he even means to. Just an echo, left in him. “Besides last requests, that is.”

“Wind’s changing. Leaving Zion. Tears flowing downriver, Horses rising from their graves.”

“ _ Go home to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, _ ” he returns, turning a screw near the back of the pistol, “ _ and hath had compassion on thee. _ ”

“What about the man without friends?”

Joshua glances up; finds Ulysses sinking into the wall, same shade of shadow. Like he was bred to be. He goes on, “Courier with no destination. Man with no God.”

“Atheist,” Joshua supplies.

“Mars is dead. Divide’s dead. But Horses…”

The Burned Man takes aim again. Ulysses doesn’t blink. Safety’s still on. “ … Are rising.”

Joshua Graham stands, slow enough to not split his skin. “In that case, Ulysses,” he grants, flipping the .45 to hold it by the barrel, “you’ll be needing one of these.”


End file.
